


Be Careful What A Dream May Bring

by ishouldbeworkingrightnow (notjustalittlegirl)



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Angst, Crying, F/M, Gleb is a sad baby, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustalittlegirl/pseuds/ishouldbeworkingrightnow
Summary: "I'm sorry, Papa. I couldn't do it."





	Be Careful What A Dream May Bring

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my brain being like "let's make Gleb suffer." Sorry Gleb. Sorry everyone. 
> 
> In case you were curious, I use Anya and Anastasia interchangeably in here. I have not yet gotten a chance to see the musical (that's a hope for this summer), i am just a huge fan of the soundtrack, so forgive any inaccuracies. Thanks!
> 
> I don't own Anastasia, and I'm not making any money off of this. Please don't sue me, I'm poor.

The Seine wasn't like the Neva. They may have looked the similar, just a simple city river to the untrained eye, but to Gleb Vaganov they were nothing alike. The Neva was a place which stood for everything in the world that Gleb valued, everything he wanted to be. It represented Russia. It represented his father.

The Seine was a place of pain, of the destruction of Gleb's entire world. The place where he had betrayed everything he had ever stood for, everything his father would have been able to do, would have wanted him to do.

God, how his father would hate him now.

Anastasia was still alive. The last Romanov, the last rallying point for those who would see Gleb's precious Russia returned to a state where monarchs oppressed their people, walked free because he had been too much of a coward to pull the trigger on her. Too much of a coward to finish his father's work and kill the girl ( _princess_ ) he loved.

Now, with his legs dangling over the edge of the Seine as he sat on its bank, Gleb cradled his head in his hands and cried.

"I'm sorry, Papa," he whispered to no one. "I tried! I did!"

Gleb knew that his father wasn't there, wasn't listening, but the words just flew out of his mouth and into the chilly air. As if his father could hear every word he said, hear his feeble explanation as to why Anastasia Romanov was still alive.

"I love her, Papa. I didn't mean to love her, but once I knew... It was too late!"

The passing Parisians must have been staring at him, at the strange Russian man crying by the Seine at midnight. If any mothers had been out with their children, they would have crossed the street to avoid coming near him. That thought only made Gleb cry harder.

"Papa," Gleb cried. "I wish you were here. You'd know what to do."

If only Stalin and all the rest could see him now, weeping into his hands like a baby over Anastasia Romanov. Anastasia, Anya, who was probably at this moment running off with that conman Dmitry.

Did she know why the son of her father's killer hadn't been able to complete his work? Did she know about the cruel irony of a Bolshevik falling in love with a Romanov?

If she knew that he loved her, did she care? Probably not. She loved Dmitry, that much was obvious. She would never love the man who was the son of the man who had killed her father, and who had held a gun to her head, that was also obvious. Anastasia loved Dmitry, not Gleb, never Gleb.

His tears came faster now, and he could no longer sit up. He fell to his side, and continued to cry.

_What is there for me now?_

Gleb could return to his Russia, to his life and to everything he had ever worked for. He could tell them that Anya was not Anastasia, that there was no truth behind the claims. But how could he face his superiors knowing that he was lying to them, knowing that Anastasia Romanov still lived? How could he look at himself in the mirror ever again?

The pistol he held had been his father's, and he knew what he had to do with it. Someone would have to die by its bullets tonight, and Anya had not, so Gleb would.

He would see his Papa again, and Anya would be free from him. It would be better for everyone if Gleb Vaganov were dead.

Gleb raised his father's pistol and held it to his own head. His hand shook as he placed it on the trigger. Would it hurt, or would he just die? 

His finger, still shaking, twitched on the trigger as he tried to work up the courage to end his own life. He would have felt better if it were Anastasia, taking her revenge, who was holding a gun to his head. At least then he would have something pretty to look at when he died, instead of the river that would never bring him comfort like the Neva did.

  _Shoot, dammit. Pull the fucking trigger. Die._

"I'm so s-sorry, Papa."

With a sob, Gleb pulled the gun away from his head. In the end, this would be just one more trigger that Gleb Vaganov was too cowardly to pull.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. Sorry about this.


End file.
